


Twas the Night Before Christmas.

by princessladybug



Series: The Swing Set 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Christmas Fluff, Daddy Kink, I want to hug sammy, M/M, Nonsexual Ageplay, Spanking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:12:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessladybug/pseuds/princessladybug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The AU (sort of) in which Dean and Sam have huge Daddy issues and Cas decides to help them through it.</p><p>Realizing that the Winchester's never had a decent, childhood Christmas, Castiel helps his little boys enjoy the holidays as they should. </p><p>This part of the 'Verse is now complete, please see the other works in the series for more fluff. </p><p>Part of the Swing-Set Verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Someone put a suggestion in my ear to do a Christmas fluff story with little Dean. I had to add little Sammy too. I couldn't resist.  
> 2\. This takes place in the Swing Set Universe, you can read the first story but it does not need to be read to understand.  
> 3\. Time line? What time line? Fuck that shit.  
> 4\. Age play is not pedophila. It is consenting adults playing roles of parent/child.  
> 5\. Even as a kid, Dean is freaking angsty and Sammy is sensitive. Gotta love Cas' patience.  
> 6\. Not beta read. Sorry.

           

             

           

 

      Cas had to admit that he did not feel that a hotel room was an adequate place to celebrate Christmas, but when he heard the boys talk about the horrible times they had with Christmas as children he had taken it upon himself to make this enjoyable for them. Castiel knew very little about human Christmas tradition, but he got the impression by the many times that Dean huffed when a holiday song came on the radio, the many houses with festive lights, and the strange references to old, chubby men climbing down chimney’s, that it was a big deal. It was not until Sam had mentioned it to him one day did he understand how much impact it would make on them.

            They were going to a job, Dean was driving of course, and Cas had chosen to ride with them. He would still never get used to riding in a vehicle, it was slow and boring, but he had a reason to be there today.

Sammy.

It took all of two weeks for Sam Winchester to figure out the special attention that Dean had been getting from Cas. He had surprised them both with a jealous streak, and it was Dean who had called him out on his behavior. His response had shocked Cas, but once they had discussed it, it made since. Sam was used to having his physical needs being taken care off, Dean had always been there, but never been able to give him what he truly wanted he really wanted. He wanted to be pampered, spoiled, cuddled, reassured, and nurtured. He was different then Dean, who needed Cas to remind him that he was in control and that it was okay for him to give it up. Sammy gave up control up easily, listening to both Cas and Dean when they directed him.  Once they had found out what he wanted, Sammy spent most of his time in little boy space, which had come so naturally to him. Today was no different, and Cas had helped the taller man into the back of the car and pulled the safety belt over him. That was how he remained, staring out the window commenting every once in a while on a billboard or a car that they passed. That was until Dean made him angry.

            “Don’t turn the radio station!”

            They were both shocked by Sam’s outburst, usually there was silence in the back seat when Dean flipped the channel when a Christmas song came on. Dean, the bah humbugger that he was, preferred to listen to Classic Rock and not Bing Crosby. Generally, Sam went along with the driver’s preference, knowing his big brothers very adamant rule about the passengers shutting their pie hole when the driver chose the music. Cas wheeled around to look at him, and Dean almost swerved off the road in their surprise.

            Before Dean could intervene either by yelling at Sam or by changing the station, Cas silenced him with a look. Dean cleared his throat but moved his hand away from the radio.

            “Please do not shout in the car, Samuel,” Cas told him firmly. “Would you like to use a calmer voice to tell your brother and I what you were trying to say?”

            Sam drew his knees up into the seat and to his chest. Which was slightly awkward due to his height, but he attempted to make himself more compact and himself when he was embarrassed by his behavior. “Sorry,” he whispered quietly into his knees. “I just want to listen to this song.”

            “Why for Sammy?” Dean asked. He had calmed down, and his fingers had relaxed again on the steering wheel.

            “It reminds me of Christmas,” said Sam. He was staring at the window again at a passing house decorated in Christmas lights.

            “It should,” Dean snorted, but he reached to turn the dial up for his little brother. “It’s a Christmas song.”

            “I know,” Sammy replied. Cas watched him lean his head back on the seat, mouthing the words to the song silently.

            Dean half laughed again as he did that thing where he repositioned his knuckles on the steering wheel when he was avoiding something. Cas noticed, of course.

            “I’m assuming that neither of you have pleasurable Christmas memories,” Cas inquired as he listened intently to the words, something about a reindeer with a red nose who saved Christmas.

            “Not much you can do for Christmas on the road with a deadbeat Dad,” muttered Dean his jaw clenching at the thought. “Sure, we committed massive credit card fraud every year to get Sammy anything and everything he wanted, but we missed out the Santa Clause thing and opening presents and stockings and all that holiday hooplah.” Cas could tell that adult Dean had more harsh words for his thought, but he did a good job refraining when Sammy was being little.

            “One year they were doing a salt and burn on Christmas morning,” pouted Sammy as the song ended. Much to Sam’s chagrin and Dean’s happiness the normal broadcast resumed.

            “Perhaps we can resolve this?” Cas suggested, raising an eyebrow.

They both knew what he was suggesting, and Cas felt Sammy beaming with excitement at the thought. He saw and felt the internal fight begin in Dean right there in the Impala. Unlike Sammy, the times that Dean became a little boy and Cas his Daddy were few and far between. Usually after a hard case, an emotional moment between Sammy and himself, or when Cas could see the stress building up in Dean they would play this game, but it was always a struggle with Dean.

            “It could be fun,” Sammy announced with high-pitched enthusiasm.

            “I will think about it.” That was Dean’s way of giving into his little brothers several minutes of begging, but it was the reassuring look that Cas gave him that made him break.

            It was that conversation that had settled it. Cas became obsessed with finding out as much as possible about this holiday. He had used Sammy’s computer, with Dean’s assistance, after putting Sam to bed each night. He asked both of the Winchester boy’s countless numbers of questions. By the time Christmas rolled around he knew their favorite Christmas tradition, song, food, and other tiny little details. He had even squeezed the information out of Dean, surprisingly.  Very rarely did he give adult Dean orders, but he did in the days before the Christmas holiday. The rules were simple. No cases for the next few days. No hole in the wall hotels, but a very nice suite with a kitchen and a room for both him and Sammy. Most important was the final rule, no complaining. He knew that once Dean slipped into his child space, that he would participate with everything that he had planned, but getting adult Dean to agree to all of this had been a battle, but he had been easier to manipulate when Cas pulled the Sam card. He reminded him that Sam wanted and needed this. Dean gave in everytime.

            This put them where they were right now. Christmas Eve in a classy hotel suite, Cas dropping several bags onto the kitchen table with a huff, he had just faught the last minute Christmas crowd to get the things he had not already collected over the past weeks. Sammy jumped up and down around him excitedly.  Cas sometimes wished that Sammy did not have the height on him, it made their roles a little harder to enforce. Luckily, Sammy was so responseive to it, Castiel had to do very little to keep their roles in place. Dean, on the other hand, often needed a firmer hand. Cas had always been happy to oblige. His wayward hunter was pouting on a chair in the corner where Cas had put him before he had left.

            “Sammy,” Cas said firmly. “Do not go through the bags.”

            Sammy’s chin nodded up and down, but his eyes were big and filled with pleading. Cas knew that Sammy would not dare touch the bags even if every fiber of him was aching too. “Dean, come here.”

            Dean pushed the chair back before slinking over with his shoulders slumped and hands in his pockets. He came to stand in front of Cas, looking down at his foot, which he dug into the carpet.  “I’m sorry that I called Sammy a…” he stopped, knowing not to repeat what he had said. The exact phrase had been a titty baby, and as soon as he had uttered it both of his boys had stopped in surprise. They had been arguing about what to watch on TV, and usually Dean allowed Sam to chose the show or the movie with little complaint, but when Sam landed on a channel that was only playing Christmas shows, Dean had had enough. Without hesitation, Cas had put Dean into the corner with little reservation, knowing that Dean really needed the time to get into the correct mindset.

            “Do not apologize to me,” Cas responded, his brow wrinkled. “You need to say that to your brother.” Cas could see that the fight between adult and child in his mind was raging. He was every bit of the Dean struggling with his inner little boy that Cas had first pushed on that swing set.

            “I’m sorry, Sammy.” Dean muttered and Sam gladly accepted the hug that Dean offered, a gesture that they never shared in their normal lives, but one Cas often caught them doing when they were role playing.

            “S’ok,” Sam answered good-naturedly. Of course, Sam would forgive Dean, he idolized his big brother, and that was multiplied when they were in these roles.

            “What did you bring us, Daddy?” Sammy asked quickly, one finger trying to peek into the bags. Cas playfully slapped his hand away with a smile. Cas remembered when Sam had first given him the same loving title that Dean had given him on that first night, along with the permission to call him Sammy.  Cas was so touched to be trusted by the boys in this capacity, and he liked to see them smile. The Winchester boys did not smile enough, and he wanted to have a hand in making that happen.

            “I got us a Christmas tree,” Cas announced as he pulled out a larger box. It was a pre-lit tabletop sized tree. Being on the road traveling DID have its disadvantages, and having a regular size tree was one of those. He pulled out another box of ornaments.  “I thought we would decorate it together, so that Santa has a place to leave the gifts when he comes to visit us tonight.”

            “That reminds me!” Sammy squealed, rushing to his laptop.

            “Samuel…” Cas warned quickly. There was rule; little Sammy needed to ask to use the computer.

            “I want to track Santa!” he announced and was already pulling up the website. He pointed a long finger at the screen when a map of the world showed up, and a “live tracking of Santa” was displayed on a Google map. “He’s in Bangkok!” Dean told them, grinning.

            Dean snorted. Cas thumped him on the ear, before handing him the box of ornaments. “Open this.” Dean obeyed, getting a little frustrated with the lack of ease it took to open the box without access to his knife which Cas had taken from him earlier. He finally succeeded and joined Daddy and Sammy in the corner where Cas was putting the small tree on a corner table.  He handed the cord to Sammy, who got on his hands and knees to plug it in.

            “Wow, that’s pretty.” Dean acknowledged as he set the box down. He had not expected himself to slip as far as he felt himself going, but he was finally taken over by the ambiance that the lights gave off. His usual frown was curling up in a half grin. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

            Sammy was already reaching for the first ornament. It looked so small in his big hands, which is the exact opposite of an actually child hanging a Christmas ornament, but his face was the pure replica of childhood bliss as he hung the glass bulb on a branch. Dean watched him, a typical Dean move, allowing Sammy to be the center of attention and have his needs met. Cas pressed an ornament in his hands, encouraging him to join in. He did, and it was Sammy that handed him the next ornament, and Dean happily accepted it.

            Cas sat back and allowed them to happily decorate their own, Charlie Brown looking Christmas tree. He liked to see them forgetting about all the things in their life. There was no Apocalypse, there were no demons, no hell or heaven. It was just the three of them and this Christmas tree. Sammy was humming a Christmas Carol to himself as he and his brother continued to their holiday festivities.

            “What is next?” Sammy asked enthusiastically when Dean allowed him to put the last of the round, glass bulbs onto the tree.

            “What would you like to do?” Cas asked, knowing that he had probably prepared for anything that the boys might throw at him, but he did offer them some guidance. “We can bake cookies to leave for Santa, you and Dean can write your letters to leave for Santa, or we can hang our stockings, or-

            He was cut off by Sammy running over to his computer screen to check Santa’s whereabouts again at the mention at the father of Christmas. Castiel chuckled at his excitement, and looked to the quieter of the two. “What would you like to do Dean?”

            “I’m not real into baking, so you and Sammy can do that,” Dean told him honestly. “Long as I get to taste test.”

            Cas reached forward and ruffled his already untidy mess of hair. “I suppose I will permit you to have sugar before bedtime, what are you going to do while Sammy and I bake cookies?”

            “I can write my letter?” Dean suggested as he went over to the kitchen table. He waited patiently for Cas to hand him the notepad and pencil. It did not surprise Cas that this was what Dean chose to do, he always enjoyed the arts and crafts activities that Cas provided. Maybe because it was quiet and he did not have to work to hard to focus on staying a kid, but there were plenty of times that Cas had just let Dean color all evening, fed him a quick dinner, and tucked him into bed and that had been enough to sooth the his needs.

            Sammy was already in the kitchen when Cas brought in the pre mixed cookie dough. Next year they might have a place and they could make their dough homemade, but this year, Cas had opted for the trays with pull apart cookies. All Sammy would need to do was turn on the oven, put them on wax paper, and they were done. Cas wanted to make this special, but sometimes you had to choose simplicity… especially when little boys were involved.

            “What are you asking Santa for Dean?” Sam asked as he was tearing open the package. Cas managed to catch most of the precut cookies that went flying. He gave Sammy a playfully stern look when he popped a piece in his mouth and laughed.

            “Peace on earth, good will for men?” Dean answered jokingly, not looking up from paper.

            “No really!” Sammy whined as Cas took the remaining dough away from Sammy before he could consume anymore.

            “I’m serious… if Santa could bring me that I would be super happy! No more hunting and no more Apocolypse’s.”

            Cas’ heart broke for his boys. If he could play Santa and bring them peace he would. He hated that they risked there lives everyday. The Winchester’s had become so precious to him, and he to them. Sometimes, he wished that he could take them away form hunting. Get a nice house in the country and raise them all over again. Dean would never go for that. Sammy… Sammy might want too, but he followed Dean’s lead, no matter how hard things got. Cas ran a loving hand through Sam’s long hair. “You know I would bring you that if I was able.”

            “We know Daddy,” Sammy acknowledged with a huge smile. He began to place the squares on the wax paper.

            “What about you Dean?” Cas asked. “You know that, right?”

            “Yeah…”Dean seemed almost sad at the thought. “But this is our fucking life…so we’re stuck.”

 Cas went to him, standing behind the oldest Winchester and placing one arm on the back of the chair. With the other hand, he placed it under Dean’s chin to tilt his head back to look at him.

            “Do you want me to take you away from it Dean?” Cas inquired with a loving smile. “Then you must allow me too. Tonight and tomorrow… there is no hunting, there are no monsters, and no angels or demons. You are my little boy, I am your Daddy.  What do you need from me to remember that?”

            Dean squirmed in his chair without answering.

            “You have already spent time in the corner,” Cas reminded him, still gripping onto his chin firmly. “Do you need me to spank you?”

            “No Daddy!” Dean exclaimed quickly. His green eyes were wide; having experience a spanking from Cas before, it was not something that he or Sammy cared to repeat.

            “Then I recommend that you watch your tongue,” Cas let go of his chin, bent down and kissed Dean’s worried forehead. “Enjoy yourself, please Dean.” Cas was going back to Sammy, knowing that the younger boy would need comfort. He always seemed to become tense when Cas scolded either one of them. So sensitive their Sammy was.

            “I’m sorry Daddy,” Dean grabbed his hand before he made it out of the dining room. “I’ll try better.”

            If Cas was still trying to be strict with Dean it would no longer happen, the frustration with Dean’s fighting fled his body with Dean’s whisphered apology. Cas could never stay upset with him. Deep down, Dean was good, kind, and sweet. His hard exterior was an act, even in his little boy world Dean enjoyed to push Cas to the edge of his patience until Cas pulled him back in and subdued him. Dean had gotten many spankings from Cas, and while it broke Cas’ heart to meet him with such firm discipline, it was what Dean required and needed the most.

            “You’re a good boy, Dean,” Cas promised, giving his hand a squeeze. “Finish your letter.”

            Letting go of his Daddy’s hand, he picked up his pencil, and resumed his letter to Santa. “Dear Santa. This is Dean Winchester. I have been…” He paused as he read it out loud. “…kinda good this year…”

            Cas smiled as he listened to Dean speaking and he found himself laughing out loud when Dean announced that he had been ‘kinda good.’ “I think you have been well behaved enough to tell Santa that you have been good,” Cas told him, coming to stand in front of Sammy again. He was fidgeting, now that all his cookies were placed on the wax paper. Cas tucked a stray hair behind his ear. “Are you well, baby boy?”

            “I just don’t want Dean to get a spanking on Christmas Eve,” Sammy whispered, glancing over his shoulder at his brother.

            Cas patted his cheek lovingly. “You are very lucky then,” Cas told him as he reached over to turn on the over. He had become very domesticated lately. “Your brother has decided to behave.” Cas put the tray into Sammy’s large hands. “Now… put the cookies in the oven.”

            “Yes Daddy…” Sammy smiled, ready to resume the cookie backing.

            After Sammy had done that, Cas escorted him over to the table with Dean. Together, they wrote their letters to Santa with Cas watching protectively. Generally, they were good, and Cas was not always required to intervene with parental guidance, but Dean was Dean and sometimes he pestered his little brother. Tonight, they were good. Dean helped Sammy write his letter, and patted his head when it was all over. Perfect timing, the oven beeped.

            “Got it!” Sammy hopped up from his seat so quickly and awkwardly that he knocked over his chair.

            “Sammy!” Cas called after Sammy as he was setting up the chair. Dean was giggling in an un-like Dean manner, it made Cas smile. “The tray will be hot, please wait for Daddy.”

            “I have mittens!” He heard Sammy yelling before Cas could get in the kitchen.

 

            Dean listened to the scene that transpired in the other room, he heard the tray hit the top of the oven. Then he cringed when he heard the familiar thwack of Daddy’s hand against denim, and then Sammy’s sniffling. The both hated it when the other was punished. Sammy got more upset when Daddy disciplined Dean, but Dean still got what he called ‘heart owies’ when he heard Sammy getting in trouble. As much as he hated it, he understood the nature of the swat that Daddy had just delivered. Sammy could have gotten burnt, and Daddy had told him to do something and Sam had deliberately disobeyed. Dean had leaned very quickly that Daddy did not tolerate disobedience.  He could curse and push the limits all day long before Daddy would act, but the second that you disobeyed a direct instruction there would be consequences. Daddy had told him once that his orders were very important, because they kept them safe.

            Sammy was crying now, and Dean wanted to go rescue him. Daddy was probably lecturing him in a stern voice, and Sammy was extremely sensitive. Poor Sammy. Dean wanted to rush to hold him when he saw Daddy escorting his brother out by the shoulders.

It was so interesting to see the dynamic between them. The fact that Sammy was taller then Cas was forgotten because he was easily submissive. In fact, Sammy and Cas found that the most enduring part of their relationship, they both enjoyed the fact that Sammy abandoned the power he could easily posses because of his gigantic form and let Cas bodily shift him around like an actual child.

            Like he was doing now, Dean noticed. Daddy had sat on the couch and was pulling the tall, lanky boy into his lap. Of course, Sam was too big and his legs sprawled out beside Cas, but his upper body fit perfectly in his embrace. Dean watched in amusement as the angel comforted Sammy, something he had never been able to do, and was thankful that Sammy was finally getting the sensitivity he needed, wanted, and deserved.

            “Dean,” Cas finally said, his hand wiping away Sam’s tears. “Would you like to bring me the DVDs from the bags. I believe that Sammy would benefit from some quiet time, and I purchased some holiday films for viewing pleasure.”

            With a nod, Dean grabbed up the DVD’s he found in the bag. He could have paid attention to the other surprises, but he forced himself to be good. Cas gave him an approving smile as Dean kneeled on the floor and used the couch as his table to lay out the boxes.

            “Rudolph.” Sammy said between sniffles. He had made it clear how much he loved Rudolph.

            “Let’s get your brother’s opinion,” Cas suggested as he placed a kiss on top of Sam’s hair.

            Dean shrugged.

            “Dean.” Cas spoke in a low voice. They were working on this. Dean having feelings and opinions. If Cas would let him, he would allow Sammy to pick everything, not being concerned for his own happiness and enjoyment.

            “I promise Daddy, Rudolph is okay,” Dean assured him as he struggled to open the DVD case. Cas sighed and reached forward to touch the case with one finger, the plastic sliding off easily.  Dean smiled as he went to put the DVD into the player.

            “Then you will pick the next movie,” Cas instructed, helping Sammy shift into their usual moving watching positions. Sammy would sprawl out on the couch, his head resting on Cas’ knee and Dean stayed on the floor in front of him pushing his body all the way up onto Cas’ knees so that his Daddy could rub soothing and loving fingers through his hair.

            Together they watched Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer, and as expected, it cheered up Sammy. Not surprisingly he sang all the songs and smiled throughout, even Dean giggled a few times. Cas praised him by running fingers through his hair.

  Though, as normal Sam was yawning before the movie was over. Cas patted him lovingly to have him sit up. “I think your little brother is ready to be tucked into bed,” Cas said as Dean switched of the television. “Perhaps we should hang up our stockings, set out the cookies, and I will get Sammy ready for bed then you and I will watch a movie together.”

            “Nu uh.” Sammy protested, rubbing his eyes. “I want to stay up with you and Dean.”

            Dean spoke before Cas could put an end to what was Sammy’s normal objection to going to bed. “But Sammy, you have to go to bed. If you’re not good and asleep… Santa won’t come.”

            “But… how will Santa get in?” Sam asked as he looked around. “We don’t have a chimney.”

            “Santa is magic,” Dean promised with a grin. “He can get in anywhere to leave presents.”

            Sam seemed to hesitate to believe Dean, and he looked to his Daddy for confirmation. Cas nodded with a grin. “What your brother says is true.”

            Taking Sammy by the hand, Dean led his brother to the kitchen. Together they put the cookies on a plate, arranging them exactly how Sammy wanted. When Dean grabbed the milk from the fridge, Sam pouted. “But it will sour if we put it out this early.”

            Dean sighed and put the milk back into the fridge. “How about if I promise to put it out before I got to bed? Do you trust me to remember Sammy?”

            Sammy thought about it. He looked between Dean and Cas worridly before he nodded, but with hesitation. “Okay.”

            Cas was pulling the decorative stockings from the bags. They were red silk, with embroider letters on the front of them. “S for Sammy,” Cas said as he handed the stocking to the still sulking boy. “D for Dean.” Dean took the stocking from Cas’ hands.

            “But yours has a D on it too!” Sammy pointed out.

            “D… for Daddy.”

 

             

           

           

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Thank you so much for all the kinds words that I have gotten about this 'Verse. Remember, I really like feedback so keep sending me kudos, comments, and keep bookmarking.  
> 2\. *MILD WARNING*There is a bit of a squick factor for some people in this chapter. It's not too bad, Sammy just wear's pull ups, he does not use them, but that will be explained. Not part of my usual forte, but it made sense. Read it... you'll understand. Or don't if that bothers you. I think its adorable, but I'm the weirdo that writes this.  
> 3\. The pajama's are real. You can totally get them [here.](http://www.jumpinjammerz.com/men-s-footed-pjs/snowman.html)  
> 4\. Follow me on tumblr if you don't already. I post fandom stuff and updates on what I'm writing. I just like tumblr followers. This is my [blog.](http://princessladybug.tumblr.com/)  
> 5\. I tried to do most of the poem by memory, I did really good, but needed to check on some things. If you want reference...[Twas the Night Before Christmas](http://www.carols.org.uk/twas_the_night_before_christmas.htm) , by Clement Clarke Moore.

            

 

 

            The stockings were hung and the cookies were placed out for Santa. It took longer then Cas would have liked, Sammy was surprisingly obsessive about such things. The stockings needed to be the exact number of inches apart, and the cookies placed in the perfect pattern. When Sammy was about to shift the cookies for the sixth time, Cas announced that it was bath time for Sam and that Dean needed to tidy up.

            “But…” Sammy looked at the plate with a wrinkled face. He bit his lip as Cas met him with a stern cock of his head. Cas tapped his backside playfully when Sammy gave in and headed to the bathroom.

Unlike Dean, Sammy was no hassle to get in the bathtub, at least not emotionally. Sam struggled in the physical department; the hotel bathtubs were always too cramped for his long, lanky body.  Not this time. The hotel suite had a large garden tub with relaxing jets. It was still a tight fit for Sammy, but he did not seem to mind and was pleasantly turning the jets on and off. Cas sat on the closed commode, allowing Sam to enjoy his little boy moment. They usually just opted for Sammy showering he knew this was a pleasure for Sam.

“Do you think that Santa will like the cookies we made?” Sam inquired as he played in the tub. He had taken a plastic cup and the ice bucket into the water for his own “bath toys.” Cas had thought about investing in some actual toys, but Sam was the only one who required them, and because of the few and far between baths for him, it seemed like it would torture Sam more knowing he could not use them. The ice bucket was always a convenient substitute.

“I’m positive that he will Sammy,” Cas leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees. “You want to start washing up so we can get you to bed, or do you want Daddy to help you?”

He knew that Sam would gladly accept his help, yet another thing that differed between the two boys. Sammy loved to be taken care off, he was already handing the washcloth to Cas as he resumed filling up his bucket. Cas smiled as he went to his knee’s beside the tub so that he could reach Sammy better. Sammy was humming “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” as Cas diligently scrubbed him.

“Daddy?”

“Hmm?” Cas had taken the cup from Sam’s fingers and was using it to pour water over his hair. Sammy knowingly closed his eyes and sputtered as some of the water reached his mouth.

            “What is figgy pudding?” He wiped his eyes with his fingers.

            “Excuse me?” Cas inquired, not understanding. He palmed some of the shampoo before he began to massage it into Sam’s scalp.

            “It’s part of the song,” Sammy explained. He began to sing… loudly and off key. “Bring us some figgy pudding. Bring us some figgy pudding. Bring us some figgy pudding.” Cas was definitely amused.

            “I would assume it is pudding made with figs,” Cas deducted, he began rinsing the suds from Sam’s hair. Seeing Sam’s look of confusion, he went on to explain. “A fig is a fruit. It is very important in religious tradition, but also is known to taste very good when harvested.”

            “It doesn’t sound good,” Sammy muttered, sputtering again as some of the soapy water got in his mouth.

            “I’m sure you would enjoy it,” Cas told him, he reached and pulled out the stopper so the water started running out. “Unlike your brother, I do not have to poke and prod you to eat things over then cheeseburgers and pie.”

            “We could make Dean a figgy pie! Then he would eat healthy figs!” Sam said excitedly as he stood up, waiting for Cas to wrap a towel around him. Cas did so very quickly, wrapping another one around his dripping hair. He laughed loudly at Sammy’s suggestion.

            “Not a bad idea, little one,” Cas helped him out of the tub and onto a bathmat. He started to rub the drops of water away with the soft, fluffy towelw. Sammy stood still and well behavior, unlike Dean who usually squirmed and tried to dry himself.

            “Daddy bought you something very special for tonight,” Cas told him as they left the bathroom. He noticed that Dean had seated himself on the couch, and was looking through the Christmas DVD’s intently. Cas smiled as he directed Sammy into one of the adjoining bedrooms, Dean always seemed to play more into his role when he thought no one was watching.

            “What is it Daddy?” Sammy bounced excitedly.

            “Lets get you in your pants and then I will show you.”

            He pulled a package from one of the bags. Cas had been hesitant about this part of their relationship at first, feeling that it was taking it much to far. He had never wanted to put Dean or Sammy back into diapers, and he found out that neither Sam or Dean had desired that at all. In fact, Sammy had never actually used these pull up briefs for their intended purpose at all.  Cas thought back to the conversation that he had with adult Sam about the pull-ups that he was now sliding up Sammy’s long legs.

            “I think I need them,” Sam had said, not able to meet Cas’ eyes.

            “Why?” Cas inquired. He was not about to tell his boys that they did not need something, or shoot it down.

            “Because it’s hard,” Sam explained. “Being bigger then you and Dean, but I’m supposed to be younger. Sometimes I just want to forget that I’m tall and strong and just be little.” There was not very much of adult Sammy left these days, his child mindset danced in and out so much that Cas and Dean had even started to be concerned for his safety on hunts.

            “I don’t want to use them,” Sam said quickly. “That’s gross.”

            “You’re telling me,” Dean commented, shifting in the drives seat of the Impala. Cas reached over to flick his ear.

            “Be kind to your brother.”

            Dean went silent, focusing on the road.

            “Does that even make any sense?”

            It did, and despite Cas being hesitant, little Sammy wore his pull-ups to bed every night after that. Now it just seemed like a natural order of things. Sammy did not object and Dean had stopped bringing it up. Cas had found that it really did help Sammy remember that he was younger, especially on days that he was unable to slip into the right headspace because he fretted about his height.

            “I ordered these off your computer,” Cas announced as he reached into one of the drawers, where he had already placed a wrapped package. Sammy bounced and clapped his hands as he took it from Cas.

            “I can open it?”

            “Of course.” Cas sat down on the bed and watched with sparkling eyes as Sammy tore into the paper.

            “These are so neat!” Sammy held up the pair of adult pajamas to his body, the footed sleepers fell to the floor and Cas was thankful that the looked long enough to fit. Fifty dollars seemed like a lot of money to spend on a pair of adult sleeper pajamas, but he had read that many families have matching pajama’s and he could not resist when he had stumbled on the light blue set with little snowmen.

            Sam could not resist either, and he was already trying to jam his huge feet into the legs of the pajamas. Cas chuckled and beckoned him over. “Let Daddy help you.”             

            Sam fumbled over to him awkwardly, one of his feet half way into the pajamas. Cas helped him step into the other leg, straighten them out, and then helped him get his arms into the sleeves. He finished by zipping it up. Cas took a step back to admire his purchas. Sammy looked adorable, and even with his extra height, he looked so much like a big kid.

            “Are they comfortable?” Cas asked, he turned Sam around in his arms to make sure that the pajamas were not to tight in the back. They seemed to fit him just fine.

            “I love them! Thank you Daddy!”

            “Good.” Cas collected another surprise in his hands as he climbed on the bed, knowing that Sam would want to snuggle up next to him. He did of course, after sliding half under the covers. Sam rested his head on Cas’ chest, one of the angel’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and the other expertly propping up the book in his hands.

            “Twas The Night Before Christmas.” Cas read, and he heard Sam sigh as he settled.

            Cas cleared his throat and turned the page, amused by the artwork. “Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house-

            “Motel.” Sammy corrected quickly.

            Cas kissed the top of his head before he resumed reading. “Twas the Night Before Christmas, when all through motel, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.” Sure, that did not rhyme, but whatever Sammy wanted.

            He flipped the page. “The stockings were hung by the chimney with care…”

            Sammy interjected again. “Except ours are by the TV.”

            “Yes, they are Sammy,” Cas ran a finger through the boys hair. “…by the chimney with care, in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.”

            Another page turned. “The children were nestled all snug in their beds.” Sammy made a point to snuggle his bum further into the Cas and the covers. Cas smiled. “While visions of sugar-plums dance in their heads.”

            “I’m not going to dream about sugar plums,” Sammy said knowingly.           

            “Oh?” He turned the page as he inquired what Sammy would dream about.

            “Santa Clause and the presents,” he answered.

            “I bet you are impatient to see what Santa brings you in the morning, aren’t you little one?” Cas asked, looking down at Sammy.

            “Yes!” Sammy nodded and pointed back to the book. “Finish!”

            Cas rested his chin on top of Sammy’s head, he proceeded to read out loud with fewer interruptions.

            _“And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,  
            Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap_

_When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,_  
            I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.  
            Away to the window I flew like a flash,  
            Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

_The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow_  
            Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below  
            When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,  
            But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

_With a little old driver, so lively and quick_  
            I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.  
            More rapid then eagles his coursers they came,  
            And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

_Now Dasher, now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!_  
            On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, on Donner and Blitzen!  
            To the top…”

            “They forgot Rudolph,” Sammy pouted.

            Cas knew the boys affection with the reindeer with the shiny nose. He gave him a little squeeze. “This was probably written before Rudolph saved Christmas.”

            Sammy seemed to be appeased by that answer, and Cas resumed reading upon his silence.

            _“…To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!  
            Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!_

_As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,_  
            When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.  
            So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,  
            With the sleigh full of Toys, and St. Nicholas too.

_And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof_  
            The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.  
            As I drew in my head, and was turning around,  
            Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

_He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,_  
            And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.  
            A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,  
            And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

_His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!_  
            His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!  
            His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,  
            And the beard of his chin was white as the snow. 

_The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth_  
            And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.  
            He had a…”

            “Santa smokes?” Sammy asked, puzzled. “Isn’t smoking naughty? I don’t understand. Santa rewards good children, but does naughty things?”

            Cas thought about how to explain to Sammy. “You know how sometimes there are things that Daddy can do that you cannot do because you are a little boy. You do not always understand why, but you just have to obey because Daddy is the adult and he knows better. It is very similar to that.”

            Sammy did not seem satisfied with that answer, his nose wrinkled. “That makes Santa not so cool!”

            “Perhaps I will stay up tonight and discuss with him how unhealthy his habit is?” Cas suggested.

            Sammy started giggling loudly.

            “What is so humerous?”

            “Your discussions about unhealthy things are not always fun,” Sammy told him knowingly. “Now I’m thinking about you spanking Santa.”

            Cas had to chuckle, he was only able to shake his head at Sam’s silliness. “I assure you that I will not be discussing it with him that manner.”

            “Still…” Sam was setteling down again, ready for Cas to assume. “Its funny.”           

            Cas cleared his throat again and began.

            _“…He had a broad face and a little round belly,  
            That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!_

_He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,_  
            And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!  
            A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,  
            Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

_He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,_  
            And he filled all the stockings, the turned with a jerk.  
            And laying his finger aside his nose,  
            And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

_He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,_  
            And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.  
            But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,  
            ‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!” 

            “Again! Again!” Sammy requested before Cas even shut the book. It was a short enough poem, and Cas obliged him by reading it a final time, this time with no interputions from Sammy.

            “On more time, Daddy?” Sammy tried to plead.

            “Not tonight,” Cas replied as he slid off the bed to put the book away. “It is your bedtime. Rest your head on the pillow and sleep, little one. Tonight Santa will come because you have been a very good boy.”

            “Tuck me in?”

            He did not even have to ask, Cas would always do that. He pulled the blankets up to Sam’s chin and used a gentle hand to smooth his hair down. He planted a loving kiss on Sam’s cheek. “Sleep well, Sammy.”

            “My music.” Sammy said quickly.

            “I almost forgot,” Cas pulled the Ipod out of his pocket before plugging it into the wall across the room, so Sammy could not play with it. “Dean helped me download special sleeping music for you tonight.” Normally Sam just listend to soothing classical music, but Cas had wanted something special for their Christmas experience. “It’s music from the Nutcracker.”

            Sammy smiled, his head still laying on the pillow. “Thank you Daddy.”

            Cas went to the door to flip off the light. “Good night Sammy. I love you. Merry Christmas.”

            “Merry Christmas Daddy.”

            With a smile, Cas pulled the door closed and went to check on the oldest Winchester. “Did you pick a movie?” Cas fell back onto the couch beside Dean, who was holding out a DVD case for him to open.

            “It’s a Wonderful Life?” Cas read as he used his angel mojo to slice through the plastic. “I had purchased this to watch after you went to bed, are you sure you do not want watch one of the ones for children?”

            “No,” Dean adamantly shook his head. “I have one tradition… and it is watching this movie. It is always on the TV the night before Christmas. I don’t think I have actually ever watched it, but it has always played on the TV in the background. It’s about an angel.”

            Dean had already gone to put the disc into the player.

            “It is a longer film, do you think you can manage to stay awake?” Cas asked with a grin, he pulled Dean down on the couch close to him, snuggling with him in the same manner as he had Sammy.

            Speaking of Sammy, Cas heard shuffling behind the door where he had just put the younger boy to bed.

            “Samuel,” Cas called out sternly.

            “I need a drink of water!”

            “There is a cup by your bed,” Cas answered back, having already been prepared.

            “Ummm. I need to go potty.”

            Beside him, he heard dean sign and knew that Dean was rolling his eyes. Cas gave him the benefit of the doubt, since he had not made Sammy go to the bathroom before tucking him in. “You have two minutes Sam.”

            He watched Sam fling the door open and rush into the bathroom. Dean started the movie, laying his head on Cas’ chest as the music began. Cas heard the toilet flush and so the blur of Sammy disappear, but not the shut of the door.

            “Into bed, Samuel!”

            “But… but…”

            “Excuse me, Dean,” Cas gently rose from the couch. Dean grabbed his hand in a panic.

            “Don’t spank him Daddy!”

            “I do not intend on spanking him,” Cas promised, he smiled at Dean’s protective streak. “I knew that tonight would be a trial getting Sammy to sleep, he is very excited and I cannot punish him for not being able to control his excitement. I am a very patient Daddy.”

            “Except with me,” Dean muttered, crossing his arms with a pout. Cas thought it was adorable when Dean stuck out his bottom lip and made it clear that he was unhappy with something.

            “Your memory must be unclear, Dean,” Cas said with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “My patience abounds when it comes to you.” Dean half laughed with him.

            “What are you going to do?”

            “Exactly the same thing I do for you when you are having trouble falling sleep.”

            “Oh.” Dean said sadly. It was not exactly as unpleasant as a spanking, but it was not fun either. He paused the movie, this could take a while.

            “Can I take a shower while you deal with Sammy?”           

            “Good idea,” Cas answered before disappearing after Sammy. Sam—knowing that Cas was onto him—had raced back to the bed and was hiding under the covers. Shaking his head at Sam’s boyish antics, Cas pulled out the nearby desk chair and sat down in it.

            “Come out from under the covers, Sammy,” Cas prompted. He crossed his arms over his chest, and watched Sammy in the dark. Sammy peeked his blonde head out from the pillows.

            “Hi Daddy.”

            “Hi Samuel.”

            Sam fiddled with the hem of the sheet. “I can’t sleep.”

            “Have you tried?” Cas asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “No.” So timid and soft.

            “Then lie your head on the pillow, close your eyes, and try,” instructed Cas firmly.

            Sam closed his eyes and got comfortable on the pillow. Cas leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. “I know you are very excited, baby boy,” Cas cooed. “But its bed time. Keep your eyes closed, keep still, and listen to your music.”

            Sammy bit his lip, even though he kept his eyes shut tightly. Cas did not leave him, and he knew that Sammy felt compelled to obey just because of his presence. He opened one eye to peak at Cas. Cas was ready. “Eyes closed Sammy.”

            With a sigh, Sammy snapped his eyelid shut again. Castiel still did not leave the room, knowing the second that he did that Sam would jump up again. He watched the boy relax deeper into the mattress, he tossed violently to keep himself awake.

            “Be still Samuel.”

            He sniffled in indignation, and was still for a few minutes again. He his head snapped up in panic. “I need…”

            “Yes, I know I just realized…” Cas had already gone to Sam’s suitcase in the corner of the room. He pulled out a hunter green throw blanket, it was soft and Sam had adopted it as his object of comfort. Cas placed into Sam’s awaiting hands and he cuddled it up against his cheek as he settled one more time.

            “I’m sorry that Daddy forgot,” Cas apologized. “Try to sleep again, I am going to be right here till you sleep.”

            Fifteen minutes later, a few more reminds to be silent and still, and one threat… Sammy’s chest was rising and falling in peaceful sleep. Cas went to him and kissed his forehead. “Sleep well baby boy.”

            Just as Cas closed Sam’s door, Dean emerging from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waste, greeted him. “Hello there darling,” Cas smiled. “I have a gift for you too. Let’s go to your room.”

            Cas chuckled inwardly at the thought of how much convincing it would take to get Dean into his own pair of footed pajamas before they watched their movie.

           

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Now that the original story has come to an end, I can focus more on this one. Yay. If for some reason you have not read the original story from The Swing Set 'Verse, you can find it[ here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1048936/chapters/2098005)  
> 2\. Dean is angsty, as always. Cas is awesome, as always. Sammy is cute, as always. More of the same in this chapter.  
> 3\. Follow me on my tumblr for updates on this 'Verse. You can find it [ here.](http://princessladybug.tumblr.com/)  
> 4\. Also, usual warnings apply. Do not own these characters. Not beta read, and slightly intoxicated when posting. (It's been a rough night.) Also, Ageplay is not pedophila. It is two adults in a consensual relationship playing the roles of adult and child. I need to state that all ageplay relationships are not centered around Daddy issues as this one is. Some ageplay relationships function on really healthy levels, and I do not want to continue with this misconception.

            

 

            Much to his outward chagrin, Dean dawned the snowman pajama set with little argument. Mostly to appease Cas, and mostly because he was too excited not to, though he would never openly admit that. Cas did not need him to admit it out loud, the fact that he had not argued and the hidden features of his face were all smiles gave Cas all the information he needed. The Angel allowed them both to bask in the pleasantries of that moment. Dean, was often too uptight to enjoy the little boy treats that Cas provided him, so Cas tried to take advantage of every second where Dean let go and allowed himself to be compelled by his little boy happiness.

            The moment passed soon enough and Cas drew Dean between his knees. Dean’s face changed, a beautiful pout forming on his lips. He had perfected the pout, almost as well as Sammy had, and Cas felt his stomach flip in guilt about what he was about to do. Dean knew exactly what his Daddy was about to bring to the surface, and the thought made him want to hide under the covers of the bed that Cas was sitting on.

            “But… its Christmas,” Dean spoke first, his wide, green eyes glossing over at the thought of a bedtime spanking on Christmas Eve.

            “I know, baby boy,” Cas was rubbing his big hands down the fleece material on Dean’s shoulders. “I have not decided yet, perhaps you can avoid your bedtime spanking tonight.”

            The corners of his lips turned up, a hopeful spark appearing in his hues. “How?”

            With a look full of pride, Cas pulled Dean onto his knee, and for Dean’s happiness he was facing upright this time. “Why does Daddy spank you every night, Dean?”

            His human took a few seconds on his lap to shuffle and get comfortable, his backside resting between his knees so that Cas could support all of his weight. Castiel knew that Dean hated talking more then he hated the spanking, hopefully Dean could get through this with a clean slate and they could avoid a bedtime spanking on Christmas Eve. When Dean had not spoken, Cas bounced his knee to coax him to words.

            “Because it reminds me that I’m a little boy,” muttered the hunter; his fingers were playing with the zipper of his new pajamas.

            “Go on,” prodded Cas in a soft voice.

            “When you spank my…” Dean sucked in breath. This conversation had been had so many times between them, and Dean knew exactly what he was supposed to say. Cas was insistent that the childish vocabulary added to the mindset that he wanted Dean to achieve. Dean knew that; he cleared his throat “…when you spank my bottom, it reminds me that your are in charge. That the bad things in my life don’t control me… you do.”

            Castiel nodded, he reached forward to take Dean’s hands into his. He needed to keep his boy focused, no fidgeting. “That is correct,” said the angel, his thumb moving back and forth on Dean’s palm. “You are doing very well. Those naughty memories do not control my little boy, I do. Now you need to be honest with Daddy, do you have bad thoughts in your head that Daddy needs to help you with?”

            The sound that left Dean’s lips was a cross between a whimper and a cry. This question hurt him the most, because by answering it he was asking his Daddy to spank the thoughts away. He squirmed despite his attempt to keep still, but he was pleading with Cas with his dilated pupils, begging not to answer that question. As much as Cas wanted to take Dean into his arms and use his embrace to discard the pain, he knew that they would get nowhere with that. He forced Dean to face his problems head on, either over his lap or by picking his brain apart word by word.

            “If I say no, would you spank me for lying?” asked Dean before he bit down on his lip.

            “You know that I would,” replied Cas, transferring both of Dean’s hand to one so he could pull Dean’s lip from his teeth with his thumb.

            “But then you will spank me for telling you that I do have bad thoughts,” babbled Dean in a whining tone. “I just can’t win.”

            “Try.” Cas ordered gently.

            “Yes, Daddy! I have the bad monsters in my head!” Dean finally conceded. He was not shouting at Cas, he would never shout at his angel in such a vulnerable moment. That would be suicide for his backside. He was shouting at himself, angry that he could not escape his demons and scared that he may not be able to escape a spanking.

            “Do not shout at yourself, baby boy,” the angel’s voice scolded, fixing the boy with a frown. “Go on, tell Daddy about your nasty monsters. Remember, do not get angry with yourself and do not hide anything from Daddy. Those behaviors will put you across my knee with a bare little bottom.”

            Dean was nodding in understanding. He was also trying to slow his nervous heartbeat. He was never calm with the threat of being pulled over Cas’ lap. It never ceased to amaze him how a spanking from Cas made him squirm and quiver, but he could take a beating from a demon without flinching. “It’s about Christmas Daddy,” he finally whispered. Without thinking about it, he put his head down on Cas’ chest and listened to the beating heart of the angel’s vessel. It calmed him. Sucking in breath. “And Sammy… it is always about Sammy.”

            Castiel wrapped his arms protectively around Dean, he had predicted this conversation the second that he had offered Christmas to the boys. He knew the thoughts and the guilt that would haunt Dean about his previous Christmas memories.

            “Keep going, sweet boy,” praised Cas into Dean’s hair.  “Speak freely, do not worry about a spanking yet.”

            Dean hesitated, knowing that he had to obey. The spanking would be much more severe if he withheld from Daddy. “It’s my fault that you have to do this for Sammy,” he finally admitted into Cas’ chest. “It is my fault that we never had Christmas. I could have stood up to Dad, got Sammy out of this life, made Dad leave him with Bobby. I could have given him better holidays, or I could have never taken him from Stanford… he could have Christmas with Jess and his own family. He never deserved to miss all of these things. I could have done right by him…” Dean’s jaw was clinching in an attempt not to cry, but he knew that was not allowed either and he relaxed his face and allowed the tears to fall off his cheeks.

            “I see,” observed Cas as he reached up to wipe the tears away. “Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. Would you like to discuss why those things are not applicable with you across my lap or would you like to continue this cuddle? Which do you need?”

            “I-I- I…” Dean was beside himself in panic, now that his hands were free he ran them through his hair in distress. “I guess I need whatever you think I need Daddy…” He was putting his fate of his backside and his emotions into the hands of Daddy.

            Cas smiled, before he pressed loving kisses onto Dean’s nose, his cheek, his forehead. He could have kissed Dean in praise a million times and would have never been able to physically represent the pride that he felt. That was the perfect answer. “That’s exactly right baby, you let Daddy make those decisions. Good boy.” Cas could not stop hugging him. It was such an important moment for them, and Cas had not had to spank him to this point. “I think we can keep talking… tell Daddy how those things are not your fault.”

            “That’s hard,” Dean sniffled, though he as comforted by the copious amounts of praise that Cas was shedding on him. “That’s where my brain gets really owie and says mean things.”

            “Let Daddy help you with your words,” suggested as he rubbed soothing circles on Dean’s back. “We’ll begin with standing up to John, I think we have talked about that before, have we not? What did Daddy tell you?”

            “You said that even if I had tried to stand up to him, nothing would have happened,” burst out Dean quickly. The relationship between John and Dean was one they covered often during bedtime spankings, it was familiar enough for an answer to be directly accessible in the little boy’s head.

            “Why is that Dean?”

            “Because, he was an adult and he was going to do what he wanted, and there was nothing I could do to stop him,” Dean answered knowingly, but there was hesitation in his voice.

            “That is correct,” nodded Cas, looking down over his chin at the once again squirming Dean. “But you do not believe that?”

            “I do, Daddy,” he answered very quickly, not wanting to sully the progression away from the spanking they had made. “But I was thinking… I think… I mean…” Cas loved how Dean stumbled over his words, trying to put his feelings into conversation. It was sign of how hard his little boy was trying. “How do I know that because I never tried? I should have tried, right?”

            “No baby,” sighed the angel sadly. His fingers rested perfectly on Dean’s jaw line, one thumb stroking the tear stained cheek and the other fingers lifting Dean’s chin up so that he could look into Cas’ blue eyes. “You were a boy, you did not know better. You did what you thought was best, and at the time it was the best. There is not fault in what you did. It would have been wrong for you to try to stand up to John, because you were trying to be obedient, and being obedient is very good. John was being misleading, and there was no way you could have understood that as a child. Do you remember us talking about that?”

            “Yes Daddy,” Dean nodded, his chin still in Cas’ firm grasp. “I know its… John’s fault.” Cas took that as sign. Dean had taken to calling his father John as he slipped further into little space, which Cas supported, especially when he was playing the role of Daddy and Dean was supposed to be reliving his childhood. “But when I think about Sammy… I feel… sad. Sad that he missed out on so much.”

            “We have talked about Sammy too,” Cas reminded him, he liked having Dean’s eyesight, so he did not let go of his face. “Sam was an adult when he made the choice to follow you, and you are not responsible for anything that has happened to Sammy since he made the consensual choice, and John is responsible for the poor childhood you both suffered. Sammy is not the issue, neither is John. You know the answers to those monsters, and how to defeat them. You are avoiding, Dean Winchester, and Daddy does not like that. Tell me. Now.”

            Dean stiffened at his tone. How could Cas know what was in the heart of his hearts, when he was not even sure. He wanted to squint his eyes and will this all away, but it was impossible. Cas was holding his gaze intently, and there was nowhere to escape from Daddy.

            “I’m sad about something else I think…” Dean finally admitted, though he could not look at Cas when he said it. At soon as he looked away from Cas, the angel clicked his tongue menacingly and Dean was forced back into submission, looking up at his stern gaze again. “I’m sad that we… I… never got a good Christmas either.”

            With an approving smile, Cas let Dean’s chin go. “It’s okay to be sad about that, it was very unfortunate. Do you have any suggestions on how we can get rid of your sadness?”

            “Anything but spankings,” Dean piped up causing Cas to chuckle.

            “No baby, I think you have done very good talking to Daddy tonight, no spankings on Christmas Eve,” Castiel playfully booped the boys nose, before he wiped away the remaining tears. “But only if you can tell me how you plan on getting rid of your sadness?”

            Cas was expecting Dean to let go of the things holding him back from enjoying his little boy Christmas. He needed to be excited and embrace the childish magic like his brother.  He needed to let the mind of the little boy consume his thoughts and his behaviors. Cas knew he could accomplish this, he had done it so many more times before. “Think of the swing set, and how happy and free you feel when Daddy pushes you. Christmas is like that. It is a very happy occasion.”

            “Um…” He watched as Dean focused hard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I’m going to watch a Christmas movie with you… and cuddle, because its okay to cuddle… its not chick flick or fluffy, because that is what little boys do. But…” He bit his lip, as he usually did before he spilled the truth. “I’ll probably fall asleep… and then you will carry me to bed and tuck me in. Santa will come because…” He struggled a little with the next part. “…Because I have been good, and he will leave presents for me and for Sammy. Then all day tomorrow it’s just me, and you, and Sammy. And we get to be little all day, and you are in charge. No hunting, no monsters, no bad memories… nothing… just family and Christmas.”

            “That is my good boy,” Cas was hugging him again. He tried to hug Dean and Sammy as much at they allowed it. He knew that they had lacked physical affection growing up, and hoped the hugs, the kisses, and the soft words of praises really reaffirmed how cherished his boys were. Cas stood lifting Dean into his arms. Some might say it was awkward for Cas to be carrying around Dean or Sam, but it was simple with a little bit of his angel strength. Sammy had never objected, and Dean was so far into his little boy space that he was in no mood to argue either. He allowed himself to be carried by his Daddy back to the couch, where the movie was awaiting.

            As predicted, Dean was asleep shortly. Cas smiled down at the sleeping Winchester, noting how peaceful and childish he looked in his snowman pajamas. His chest rising and falling, as he took long, relaxing breathes. There was no stress on the usually hard features of his face; his jaws that were usually clenched were relaxed and puffing softly with each breath. His brow that usually held traces of those nasty human wrinkles was soft and gentle, not a trace of worried sweat from the nightmares that would usually torment him. Cas loved these moments the most, when the boys were at peace. He hated the moments where he was spanking the demons out of Dean, happy to do it for the boy’s betterment, but hated that he had to do it. Castiel had never been a person full of hate, but he hated John Winchester and the life that he had put on Dean and Sam. An eternity in hell was not enough justice served for the man who raised the boys so selfishly and with so much neglect. Cas was not even their parent and he treated Dean and Sam better then John had done in his entire existence.

            Something behind him stirred, Cas was jerked away from his thoughts.

            “Daddy?”

            Sammy was standing in the doorway, his hair was messy and his eyes were still half closed. Clutched in one of his hands was the blanket that Cas had given to him earlier. There was no trying to be firm when Sam looked that adorable.

            “Sammy,” Cas sighed, but patted the knee that Dean’s head was not resting on. Sammy ran to him and managed to squeeze his huge body into the tiny space he was allotted not to wake his brother. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping, little one?”

            “I wanted to see if Santa had come yet?” muttered Sammy, he managed to put his head onto Cas’s shoulder and tuck one of his long legs up close to his chest, the other hang down close to Dean’s head.

            “That’s very naughty, Samuel,” Cas told him only half sternly. One of his hands was snaking into Sam’s long locks to pull the tangles apart; the other had not ceased petting the top of Dean’s slumbering head. “Children are supposed to remain in bed till the morning, if they see Santa, he might take all of his presents back.”

            “Oh no!” Sammy gasped, but it was soon followed by a yawn. Cas chucked at his theatrics, before planting a kiss on his cheek and pushing him back off his lap. “Go get in bed, Daddy is going to put your brother to bed, then I’ll come tuck you in again.”

            “K, Daddy.” Sammy started back towards the room that Cas had assigned as his, before turning at the door. “Can you bring some warm milk?”

            “Yes, little one.” Cas was already lifting the limp Dean into his arms. The oldest Winchester, who would have normally been startled from his sleep if anyone touched him, only stirred softly against his chest. Cas shushed him, and when he heard the voice of his angel, promptly returned to his sleep. Gently, with many nights of practice, Cas laid Dean’s head on the pillow before he tucked the blankets in around him. With a final parting kiss to his forehead, he left to take care of the other Winchester for the second time that evening.

            As promised, Cas brought Sammy his cup of warm milk. Sammy took the glass thankfully, and took a sip. Cas wiped the milk from his upper lip with his fingers. “Are you having trouble sleeping tonight, baby boy?”

            Sammy drew his large legs up to his chest and rested his chin on them. “I’m just very excited, Daddy,” Sam told him honestly. “I’ll fall asleep and then wake back up again. Then I toss and turn for a long time… I don’t know what it is.” He tilted his head back to drink the rest of the milk.

            “I do,” Cas told him, taking the now empty cup from his hands, and setting it aside. “You are doing exactly what a little boy would the night before Christmas, being so excited that they do not even remember to obey Daddy and stay in bed.”

            “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to disobey,” Sammy pouted once more. In fact, Cas had found Sammy’s pout so misleading that he often found himself questioning the validity of it. This time, Sam was not trying to manipulate Cas’ emotions, he was genuinely sorry for not doing what he had been instructed. Cas knew this because Sammy tried so hard to be good for him.

            “I know, little one,” acknowledge the angel as he gently reached out and pushed Sammy down against the pillows. He tucked Sam’s blanket into the crook of the boy’s arms before pulling the hotel blanket up his body. “That still does not mean that you get to make the rules around here Samuel. Stay in bed, even if you cannot sleep. If you get up again, Daddy will spank you.”

            Sam whimpered at his proclamation, but was nodding. “Will you stay with me?” He begged quickly.

            “I already did that once, remember.” However, Cas could not turn him down, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, pushing strands of hair away from Sammy’s now shutting eyes.

            “Sing.” Barely a whisper escaped the boy’s lips.

            Cas smiled. His vessel had not been blessed with the best vocal chords, but the were average. Just enough to sooth Sammy into peaceful slumber on his most restless nights.

            “I will sing, but you must keep your eyes closed.”

            Sammy hmmed his agreement, and Cas began to sing softly.

            “O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining, It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth…”

             


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. So... I left work early today, because I'm still not entirely well. I had extra time, and decided to wrap up the Christmas fluff. Mostly because I really, really want to write the Sick Baby Moose story, and I grounded myself from it till this one was done.  
> 2.) Not really any warnings... except there is a part that I cry and laugh at the same time. Actually there are a few of those. Especially a moment with Cas.  
> 3.) Follow my tumblr. You should know the link by now.  
> 4.) Keep leaving comments and feedback. After the Sammy story, I only have one plot bunny hopping around, so I need some ideas and things that you, as my readers what to see.  
> 5.) Usual statements. Don't own the characters. Don't own the games that I mention or the movies either. Ageplay is not pedophila, but a healthy, consensual relationships between two adults playing the roles of parent/child. Not beta read.  
> 6.) Enjoy! Happy Holidays to all of you!!!!

 

* * *

 

 

After he had sung Sammy to sleep, Castiel proceeded to play the role of Santa Clause. He spent the next few hours wrapping the boys Christmas presents. When he had tried—and miserably failed—to wrap them by hand, they ended up looking like he had pulled the wrapping paper from the garbage and stuck it together with a few pieces of tape. It was always surprising to him the skills that he had to acquire to act as a human father; surely the paternal role was underestimated. He ended up cheating and used his angel powers to wrap each gift beautifully in the red holiday paper. Sticking the bows on was easy, once he learned to peel the tape off, of course. He placed them under there little make shirt Christmas tree with an approving nod.

“Deck the halls with bows of holly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la.”

Cas snorted. Sammy was awake again, and bellowing his fifth verse of Deck the Halls. Shaking his head, Cas went about his business. As long as Sam obeyed him and stayed in bed, there was no way he could make the boy sleep. Not when he was this excited.

“Daddy?!” Sammy cried. Cas heard him flop around on the bed. “Did Santa come yet?”

Cas was fulfilling his obligations as Santa and munching at the sugar cookie when Sammy called out. He laughed out loud, spitting crumbs everywhere.

“No, Sam,” Cas called back, careful not to wake Dean in the other room. “And he won’t come if you don’t settle down and get some sleep.”

Sammy went quite again. For at least another half hour. This gave Cas time to fill the boys stockings. He had not picked out much for them, but what he had purchased seemed appropriate. He had stuck to their acquired tastes, a box of apple pie pastries for Dean and fresh fruit for Sammy. There were handful’s of chocolates for each one, because he had found out that every child—big and small—loved chocolate. A deck of playing cards Dean, Go Fish for Sammy. A couple of other knick-knacks that they would either break or loose within the days to come. There little boy hearts would be content, and so would his.

“Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock!”

If Cas did not already have the patience of a saint, then resisting the urge to go strangle Sam Winchester to sleep, was miracle. Not really, Cas would had to say he was sincerely amused by Sam’s excitement, and his ability to stay up this late when he was so used to getting eight to ten hours of sleep in his little boy headspace.

This time Cas sang back to him, a different song, hoping that Sam would get the hint. “He knows when you’ve been sleeping… He knows when you’re awake. He knows when you’ve been bad or good so…”

“Be good for goodness sake!” Sam chanted back, a giggle in his voice.

Cas shook his head, still laughing. He took the glass of milk from the table and poured it into the sink, leaving just a little at the bottom of the glass. He gave one last survey of the room; munched cookies, drunken milk, stockings full, and presents under the tree. He had one last thing to do, before he went and settled Sam into his bed.

He took the letters that Dean and Sam had written, and sunk down into the chair to read them.

He heard the pitter patter of Sam’s feet.

“Back in bed Sam, leave the iPod alone,” Cas called as he unfolded the first letter, it was written in Dean’s crayon print. He listened for the familiar huff from Sam and heard the boy flop back onto the bed, before he started to read Dean’s letter.

_Dear Santa,_

_It’s me Dean Winchester. Daddy said that I could tell you that I had been a good boy this year. I think Daddy is nicer then I would be to myself, but he always says he knows best, so I if Daddy says so then that means I have been good._

_For Christmas, I really want Sammy to be happy. I know that Daddy wants me to ask for something for myself, but I’m happy. I have my Daddy, and he takes such good care of me and Sammy, and I have my baby brother, and he makes me laugh and smile because he is so silly. So that’s what I really want, because I know that you can’t make the monsters and the bad things go away, but you can make people happy. So if you can give Sammy whatever he asks for… that would be good for me._

_Since I have to obey Daddy and ask for something, I guess I want that water gun that we saw in the store a few years ago. I promise that I won’t shoot water at Daddy or Sammy… well at least till the summer, because it to cold now. So maybe that’s not the best thing to ask for… maybe I can ask for it for my birthday instead._

_So maybe a really cool Dust in the Wind t-shirt or anything from Classic Rock stuff. Daddy says that that music isn’t for little boys, but… I just think Daddy just doesn’t know what he is missing. Maybe you can make him understand._

_Thank you Mr. Santa Clause, Have a Merry Christmas._

_Dean Winchester_

He read the letter in storm of emotions. Cas rarely felt a strong emotional surge enough to cry, but Dean’s written words pulled tears to his eyes. Such a selfless boy he was, he always put Sammy first. Cas loved that about Dean as much as he hated it. He adored the amount of kindness and affection that Dean showed for Sam, but disliked the fact that he held very little over for himself. He was happy to see that Dean did ask for something for himself and his tears turned to laughter before the letter had finished. Luckily, Cas had been able to predict what he might ask for. Not the water gun, but he did tuck away the information for a later time, but the Classic Rock memorabilia. Underneath the tree, were several collectors’ items featuring some of his favorite bands, one that he had even mentioned in his letter.

Next was Sammy’s letter, and it had Cas laughing from the second he read the first line. True to roles, Sammy had written his letter in gigantic scribbled blue letters. It was much more untidy then Dean’s script, but Cas was able to decipher it.

_Dear Santa,_

_It’s Sammy. And I’m the best best bestest boy ever. I’ve been almost perfect all year, so I should get lots of nice things! Daddy says so. And he only had to spank me twice, so that means that I was really good. Sometimes I had time outs, but that’s not super bad._

Cas was having to cover his mouth to keep his laughter at a minimum so that he did not coax Sammy into the sitting room.

_Well… even it is bad, he still said I could ask for things. So I want a car and a pony, but we don’t have anywhere to keep a pony, so don’t bring that, but I still think it would be fun. And don’t bring me a car either, because we have one of those, maybe a toy car because that would be fun to play with._

_I think we need board games. Me and Daddy and Dean don’t play enough games._

Cas’ jaw dropped in surprise. He HAD gotten the boys a few board games, not specifically for Sammy, but from both of him. He was happy to see that they shared the same thoughts. He knows in one of the boxes under the tree were three games for them to play together; Apples to Apples, Clue, and Monopoly. Nodding, he went back reading.

_I need a stuffed animal too. I like my blanket, but sometimes I want to cuddle something else, and Daddy doesn’t always stay the night. So I need something to cuddle._

Cas could practically hear little Sammy saying all of this as he read along, and he was laughing again. Thankfully, Cas had gotten him a stuffed animal, and it was tucked up in an attractive Christmas bag with the rest of the gifts.

_Yeah, I think that’s all. And Dean too. He wants peace, but Daddy said that can’t really happen, so get him the gift he wants, cause he has been good too._

_Merry Christmas!_

_Sammy_

_PS- Enjoy the cookies. Daddy and I made them special!_

Of course, Sammy would think about Dean too. Cas felt his heart swell in admiration for both of them. He never regretted the moment when he asked Dean to sit on the swing set. That moment had opened up such a new side to his boys that he never wanted to give away. Unlike the hunters that he had spent ample amount of time with, and loved. He found that each and every new turn of this relationship made him love the Winchesters so much more. They both tried so hard to be strong and brave, but deep down they were gigantic children who loved without hesitation. Behind that stoic façade they worked so hard to put on, Cas knew that they played, giggled, smiled, danced, and wanted to forget about the hard things in their lives. Cas cried onto the sheets of paper. He had spent so much time searching for his purpose in heaven, millenniums of looking for his destiny, and it was the letters—written in obnoxious crayon— in his hands, that he finally found it. He was meant to be here for Sam and Dean. He was meant to give them the happiness and joy they secretly desired. Being their Daddy, as odd as it might have sounded at one time, was exactly where and who he needed to be.

Cas tucked those letters away, a memory to keep for his very own. Not that he needed the physical letters, the words and the sight was forever burned into his memories and heart.

Standing up, Cas was satisfied as he looked around the room a final time, and he had to bite back the urge to just let Sammy come out and enjoy his Christmas bliss. Waiting, was part of the package though, and Cas flipped off the light, checked on Dean who had not moved since Cas had tucked him, and went to settle down his youngest.

“Sammy,” Cas greeted firmly, leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed. He was unable to hide his amusement though, a smile curling on the corner of his lips despite his best efforts to hide it. Sammy was half in and half out of his sleeper and he was sprawled out on his back, his head tilted backwards off the bed, his long hair touching the floor. His toes, which were still in the footed part of the pajama’s wiggled as they pointed up at the ceiling. He was humming his own off tune version of Frosty the Snowman.

Sam made no effort to move, he just leaned his head back further to look at Cas. “Hi Daddy.”

“Why are you half naked, little one?” Cas entered the room, shutting the door behind him, lest Sammy got any ideas to look out into the sitting room.

“It was hot.”

“Was it, or were you hot from bouncing around on the bed singing Christmas songs?” Cas sat down beside him, and without invitation began to tuck Sam’s big arms back into the pajamas.

“Yeah… that.” Sammy said, looking down to watch him zip the sleeper back up.

“Though so,” Cas said simply. He maneuvered Sam with little difficulty back to the head of the bed.

Sammy, of course, put on a beautiful pout. “Daddy, I can’t sleep,” he whined, but accepted his blanket when Cas handed it to him.

“Daddy is going to lie next to you,” Cas promised as he flipped off the bedside lamp and slid in beside Sammy.

That seemed to be good enough to stop the whining and pouting from Sam, and he curled up practically on top of Cas. In response, Cas kissed the top of his head. “Go to sleep, Sam,” he whispered in to the untidy mop of hair. “In the morning you can be excited again, alright?”

The youngest Winchester nodded, but did not say anything. Even though his mind was excited and bubbling with anticipating, his body was tired and it soon betrayed him and he was able to sleep with his Daddy by his side. Castiel rested his vessel, though his angel soul never truly slept, and was happy to say that Sammy only awoke once more. Cas tucked his soft blanket into his arms, kissed his brow, shushed him, and held him still. He went back to sleep without a fuss.

That was until the first morning light crept in through the curtains. It was almost like the boy’s body was timed to awake with the sun. He popped up, rubbing the crust from his eyes, and a huge grin on his face. He looked wearily over at Cas, a sheepish look begging for permission to get up.

“Go ahead, Sammy,” Cas granted with a nod, and Sam bounded from the bed without hesitation.

“DEAN! DEAN! DEAN!”

Before Cas could catch up with him, Sam was practically bouncing on top of his groggily awaking brother.

“Sam, What the hell?!” He bolted upright, a panicked look on his face. He nearly pushed Sammy off onto the floor.

Cas cleared his throat, and the sound was all that Dean needed to remember what was going on.

“Sorry,” he mouthed over Sam’s head, his face relaxing as the realization set in.

“Dean, its Christmas!”

His brother took a little longer to bask in the excitement, but Cas could clearly see the gleam in Dean’s eyes, despite the yawn that was lingering on his lips as he crawled out of bed.

“I bet Santa came,” Dean acknowledge to Sammy, stretching his arms above his head.

Sam squealed, and Cas cringed at the high pitch. Dean seamed to be unphased as Sam rushed past him towards the living room.  “I almost forgot about Santa!”

“Really?” Dean replied, following Sammy. He paused in front of Cas, who draped his arm around Dean and pulled him towards the little Christmas tree. “I would have thought that was impossible.”

Sammy, without being told, waited for Daddy and Dean to join him. He sat down, cross-legged in front of their Charlie Brown tree and stared at the boxes with awe. “Did you see? Santa ate our cookies!”

Dean, was more subdued in his excitement and he joined Cas on the couch, pulling his legs up underneath him. The both looked down at Sammy, who was practically bouncing to begin.

“Go ahead, hand out the presents,” Cas instructed between smiles. His arms was still around the awaking Dean, and Dean had no objection to snuggling with Cas in this moment, that was until Sam brought him his first gift.

Cas pulled at the tag. “To Dean Winchester from Santa,” read out loud, still grinning. “See, you were a very good boy.”

Sammy had sat down at Cas’ feet with his gift too, the bag with the stuffed animal in it. “Mine’s from Santa too,” he announced as he looked at the tag. “Can I open it now Daddy?”

“Go ahead, both of you.”

Not surprisingly, Sammy ripped the tissue paper out of the bag and it went flying around the room. Dean, on the other hand was calm, and he pulled at the tape sparingly, trying to preserve the paper. “Dean… just open it,” Cas instructed, and Dean nodded before he finally ripped the paper off.

Looking down, Sam was already cuddling with the stuffed animal that Santa had brought from him. It was a purple dragon, with sparkling wings, it eyes were big and and black, and in Cas’ opinion reminded him of the exact same face that Sam gave him at least a thousand times a day. “Santa brought my cuddle buddy, just like I asked for!”

“Santa is smart like that,” Dean told him, knowingly as he was opening the box of his gift. He chuckled at the sight, almost like he did not believe that it could actually be what it was. Holding up the “Everything is just Dust in the Wind” shirt to his body, he finally let the joy spread across his face. “I guess he really does know.” Cas could tell Dean was trying to figure out how he had known what to get him without reading the letter, and therefore falling out of his mindset as he tried to reason with the idea. Cas leaned over and whispered into his ear, “Magic, Dean.”

“Right…” Dean let it go, he forced himself to let it go, as he pointed to another present. “Ready for another one Sammy?” Cas patted his back approvingly.

Sam sat his knew stuffed animal and Cas’ knee, and Cas instinctively reached out to hold the dragon in place so it did not topple to the floor. He even playfully puppeteered it around as if it was interested in all of the happenings of Christmas. Together, the boys finished their gifts. Dean got another shirt the words Iron Man printed artistically on the front and on the back the lyrics to the Black Sabbath song of the same name. Tucked in the shirt was a bumper sticker for his Impala that read, “Back in Black.” He seemed to be pleased with both of the gifts, and he was even unable to restrain himself from bouncing up and down on his knees as he held them. Sam got a set of Star War’s legos to be kept in the little boy luggage box, Sam liked toys and it was something to entertain him and focus his energy on, so it had been a win/win for Cas to buy the legos. He also got Sammy the entire set of Dr. Seuss books. They spent so much time with Sammy riding in the back seat of the car, he felt like the boy needed something to distract himself with. Sam was obviously pleased, and was already trying to pull the plastic off his legos.

“Don’t you want to open the other gift before you open that, Sammy?” Cas asked, as he used the dragon to point to the last gift under the tree, it was labeled to both Sam and Dean from Daddy.

“Go ahead Sammy, open it,” Dean said, not able to contain his voice any longer and it was filled with excitement.

“Don’t you wanna Dean?” Sammy asked as he pulled the present towards them.

He bit his lip. He wanted Sammy to enjoy the moment, but he did want to have his own satisfaction of opening the final gift.

“Open it together,” Cas told him, giving him a gentle nudge to the floor with the dragon he was still holding. Dean let his toothy grip on his lip go and slid to the floor to help Sammy rip open the paper.

“OH!” Sammy explained, holding up Clue. Dean had grabbed Apples to Apples and was actively reading the back of the box. He was beyond excited to play this game with his brother and his Daddy.

“Thank you, Daddy!” Sammy had moved to throw his arms around Cas’ neck. Castiel welcomed him into lap, handing him back his new dragon. Dean, still clutching the Apples to Apples game, instinctively leaned back on Cas’ knees, his head resting gently on the space in his lap that Sammy’s gigantic form did not take up.

“Are you happy Dean?” Cas asked, reaching down to run his fingers through the boy’s bed head.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” Dean finally said, out loud. It was one of the most sincere things that Cas had ever heard him utter, especially from his little boy lips.

“He’s right,” Sam agreed. His head was resting on Cas’ shoulder, his arm holding his dragon. “I think we should make this day last all day long.”

Cas laughed when Dean adamantly agreed with Sam by nodding his head.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” remarked Cas. “We can watch the rest of our movies, play our games, I will make breakfast, Sammy can take a nap-

“Ew! No way!”

Dean laughed.

“After the lack of sleep from your eventful night last night, llittle mister,” Cas playfully poked his nose. “You’ll be begging for a nap before the day is finished.”

“Nuh uh.”

That was exactly what they did too. The pigged out on pancakes and maple syrup. Dean popped in a movie while Sammy set up Monopoly as Cas cleaned up after them. They sang off key Christmas carols and laughed at Cas when he mistakenly paid Dean to much rent for Boardwalk. And just like Cas had said, Sammy begged to take a nap right after lunch, but only if he could carry it out with his head in Cas’ lap. Dean put in Miracle on 34th Street as he sat down between Cas’ legs. Sammy rested his head in Cas’ lap, and yawned. The were together. This was happiness. This was little boy perfection, nothing could get better. This was family. This was Christmas.  

 

 

 


End file.
